Chapter 4

It was clear to me. It would have been just as clear to that disinterested observer I mentioned earlier. Juvenile or not, my almost-but-not-quite eighteen-year-old niece knew exactly what she wanted. Or at least what she thought she wanted. Things get muddy when you bring ethics into it, so I didn’t. I decided, completely arbitrarily, that she was a big girl now and she was capable on both a cerebral and emotional level of making this decision for herself.

Besides, I had a stiff prick and it remembered how furnace hot it had been inside her velvety tunnel.

So yes, I admit that it was my little brain that went into action.

“Yes,” I said. “In fact, I owe you two.”

“Two?”

“You’ve never had two in a row?”

“No. You can do that?”

“No, you can do that,” I said. “With a little help from your friend.” I grinned.” That’s me, just so there’s no confusion.”

“Two, huh,” she said, sounding skeptical.

“Maybe more,” I said, confidently. I wasn’t going to go off half-cocked this time. Or fully cocked, as it were. Nope, no hair trigger for me. Not this time.

I led her to the bedroom, where the sheets were still wrinkled from our earlier coupling. I told her to lie down and spread her legs while bending her knees. It might have sounded a little clinical. But all that changed when I crawled on the bed and lay down with my face between her thighs and got to know that puffy pussy first hand.

“That’s not what I want,” she complained as I kissed swollen labia.

“Be patient,” I said. “Getting in a hurry is part of what caused the problem last time.”

“Em and Ash can do that for me,” she said, still complaining.

I spread what seemed like inches of pussy lips and found her clitty. Aroused or not, it was already peeking out of its hood. I sealed my lips around it and sucked.

“Mmmmm, that’s what Em likes to do,” purred my niece.

I nibbled, scraping, rather than biting her clit with my teeth.

“Ahhh!” she groaned.” Em never did that to me!”

I didn’t want to overstimulate her. Not yet. I gave her clit a break and plunged my tongue as deeply into her as I could.

“Now you’re Ashley,” she said, breathing deeper. “But it’s different. I can feel your beard. It’s really soft.”

I kept tongue fucking her and put my nose to work on her bud. All I did was move my head back and forth, pushing her clit around. Then I pulled back and sucked her puffy lips into my mouth.

“Mmmm, nobody’s ever done that to me,” she said. “You’re pretty good at this.”

I nosed her lips apart again and went to work on her clit, this time in earnest. It took probably five minutes, but she wasn’t complaining any more as, finally, her hips thrust upwards and she groaned, grabbing my hair and pulling as she had what she probably thought was the only orgasm she was going to have. But I had plans for little Caitlin. When I got finished with her this time, there would be no frowns or complaints.

I moved up her body, licking and kissing, until I got to her heaving breasts. I sucked at her nipples like a starving baby. It turned out her nipples were extra sensitive, and pretty soon I thought I could get her to number two just by squeezing, pulling and sucking her nips.

But I wanted numbers two and three to be with me in her. I reached, fisted my cock, and used the nose to pry those slick lips apart again. I didn’t go easy on her. Rather, I slid in in one long thrust, again banging my pubes against her naked mons.

Then all I did was stay deep and rotate my hips, crushing her poor clit and giving it no rest.

Number two happened about a minute later, and it was loud. I should say she was loud. The first one had been signaled by a groan and some whimpers. This one came with ever faster gasps of “Don’t stop!” and then a long, drawn out scream that practically curdled my blood. Her hips bucked again and lifted both her and me off the bed for a second or two. Then her feet drummed on my ass and the chant turned into “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as she literally shook like she was naked in the arctic.

I changed to moving back and forth, instead of circles, and every once in a while I’d pull out a bit and then drive back in. There are two kinds of orgasms, I am told. One is clitoral, and the other vaginal. In most women, one is better than the other, and some women can’t have an orgasm unless the right part of her sex is stimulated. It was pretty clear Caitlin had clitoral orgasms. Now I wanted to find out if movement inside her vagina resulted in the same thing.

I had to be careful, because the hammer of my gun was getting really close to full cock again. So I couldn’t just slide in and out. She was too tight and the friction felt too good to me. So about every ten strokes I pushed in and went sideways, or in a circle once.

“You’re still going,” she panted.

“You’ve had your two orgasms,” I said. “Now it’s bonus time.”

“You’re kidding me,” she gasped, as I went sideways two or three times.

“You want me to quit?” I asked.

Her legs came around me instantly and her hands gripped my upper arms. “Never!” she panted.

“Then just lie back and enjoy it,” I said.

It became clear that she liked the in and out, but it wasn’t the thrill that having me deep inside her was. I realized the tip of my cock was punishing her cervix when I went deep. I’d known one woman who didn’t like that. It hurt her and as a result she always wanted to be on top, so she could control the depth of penetration. Caitlin hadn’t complained, though, so I kept doing what I’d been doing.

The way her hips bounced upwards whenever I went in deep convinced me that her third cum needed to be clitoral. I was getting too close anyway, so I went in and gave her circles again.

Two minutes later she went off like a bomb again, croaking garbled words about how it was happening again and she couldn’t believe it and other things I couldn’t quite understand.

The last time her internal muscles had simply gripped me like a vise.

This time they rippled, milking my prick expertly. Her cervix was rubbing against the tip of my cock as well, and as she came down from her orgasm, mine arrived like an F-16 jet flying at treetop level. One second everything was (relatively) quiet, and the next everything was vibrating as my penis coughed and spat, delivering another ounce of sperm-laced fluid that painted her cervix white and then spread backwards, along the shaft of my penis as I gave her short strokes in an effort to keep spurting.

My arms went limp and I fell on her. I heard an “Ooof!” and, remembering her earlier complaint, rolled off of her. There was a wet, squelching sound as my penis pulled out of her.

“Ohhhhhh,” she complained.” You took it out of meeee.”

“I think you killed it,” I gasped, dragging in deep breaths of air.

She sat up like there were springs in her body.

“No!” she wailed, looking at my cum-streaked penis. I couldn’t even feel it any more, so I didn’t know if it had shriveled to being an inch or two long or not. Sometimes that’s what it did when I jerked off.

“Kidding,” I panted.

She slapped my chest with one hand.

“You better be,” she scolded.

She flopped back down.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she breathed.

I turned my head toward her.

“I did good?”

She rolled her head and green eyes looked at me.

“There are no words to describe what that was like. It was even better than they said it would be. We’re gonna’ do that a lot!”

I sighed.” I am so in trouble.”

“Not as long as you keep doing that to me,” she responded.

Then she rolled over on top of me for kisses.

Now, when your uncle bones you good and proper, and you live in America, even the simplest of girls knows not to mention that to anybody. At least not if she liked it. If it was abuse, then that’s different, but I couldn’t see what we’d done as abuse. That would be like a child coming to the parent saying, “Hey, I haven’t had a bone bruising beating for a while. How ‘bout giving me one? See if you can put me in the hospital. I like hospital food.”

What I mean is that in our case, I thought it went unsaid that we were going to tell no one about the “upgrade” to our relationship.

Especially when, the morning after your uncle pops your (virtual) cherry, you wake up and want to know what riding cowgirl is like.

She liked that, by the way. And I found out for sure that she liked having her cervix abused, because her favorite part of being a cowgirl was sitting straight up and trying to get as much of me in her as humanly possible. Then she did this little hip wiggle that punished the tip of my cock with her cervix.

She didn’t have an orgasm that way, though. Being a quick learner, she found out that leaning forward and rocking forwards and backwards got her both vaginal stimulus and constant clitty massage. She had two orgasms and would have gone for more except she said, “Em and Ash will be here soon. Your turn.”

So I rolled her over and, since she’d had her fun, I had mine. Long, firm strokes had me ready to pop in a minute or so. Holding myself up on my left hand, I reached and, as the first shot rocketed through my prick, I pulled it out and sprayed her mons with it.

“Don’t take it out!” she complained. “I like it when you shoot inside me. It’s warm, and I like having your stuff in me.”

“It’s good for the skin,” I panted, sitting back on my calves and staring at her supine beauty.

“Really?”

Her hands came to her pelvis and she pulled flat fingers through the mess I’d made on her skin.

“Just rub it in like this?” she asked, making her hands go in circles over her lower stomach.

“Just like that,” I sighed.

She pulled her hands up to her breasts and made circles around them, pinching her own nipples with spermy fingers.

“And this?”

“Perfect,” I said.

She lifted one hand and held it in front of her face. She folded all but her index finger and looked at that.

“Ashley likes the taste,” she said, almost to herself.

Then she licked the tip of the finger, evaluating the taste. Apparently there wasn’t much left to taste, because she stuck her whole finger in her mouth and cleaned it by sucking while she pulled it back out. Her eyes went out of focus as she tasted, and then focused on me.

“I don’t taste much of anything,” she said.

“You can try it later straight from the source,” I suggested.

She stared at me.

“Are you trying to get me to give you a blow job?”

“I’m saying that, on your road of sexual discovery, should you want to pull off to examine that particular historical marker, that option is available to you,” I replied.

She snorted.

“You are so full of it. You want me to suck your dick. All guys want their dick sucked.”

“All girls want their pussy sucked,” I countered.

“True enough,” she admitted.” We’ll see. Em and Ash say I need to learn that.”

“The same Em and Ash you said would be here soon?” I asked, looking around.

“Yes!” she said, instantly energized. “Get dressed. They can’t see you like that!”

I didn’t respond. I just got off the bed and went to the closet to get clean clothes.

Meanwhile, she scampered out of the bedroom, fingers between her legs to keep my semen from dripping down her thighs, headed for her own room.

As I was saying, when your uncle bones you good and proper, and you live in America, even the simplest of girls knows not to mention that to anybody.

So when Emma and Ashley bounced into the house, calling out, “Hi, Mr. Simmons. Where’s Kat?” and I sent them up to her room, it never dawned on me that she’d tell them ... in excruciating detail ... what had happened to her the previous night. And morning. Including the premature ejaculation.

I had completely forgotten that both of them had told her something unthinkable, themselves.

Knowledge changes your life. Even if it’s facts or information that’s assumed. If you believe something, it can change the world in which you live. The classic example I can think of is the bride. You’re at the wedding and she walks down the aisle, looking beautiful and pure and unsullied by the lustful behavior of a man. Of course that’s not actually true, in most cases, but it’s easy to believe as you see her advance towards the man whose lustful behavior she’s about ready to accept. So you view her in one way as she approaches her new husband.

Then they go off on their honeymoon, where you know what they’re doing. And when they get back, and you look at her, you know she’s a well fucked woman. No more innocence. No more “maybe” she did something. Now you know she lay back, spread her legs and (hopefully) loved a man’s lustful behavior. She couldn’t get enough of his lustful behavior.

You look at this woman in a different way than you did before the honeymoon. It just happens. And it can be awkward if you think about that too much and then she gives you a hug and says she’s glad to see you, because you feel guilty for stripping her with your mind and wishing you were slamming it to her just then.

Men will tell you they don’t do this.

They’re lying.

Or brainwashed.

I’d put my money on lying.

The point is that I didn’t have to hear the shrieks as she gave them the blow by blow, to know that she was being ... indiscreet. I could tell the second her two friends came into the kitchen with her. Caitlin was acting completely normal as she said, “We’re hungry. Do we have any snacks?” The other two looked at me as if I’d sprouted antlers, or maybe a third eye. Neither of them said word one to me.

They knew.

It was written all over their faces, and suddenly I wasn’t “Mr. Simmons” any more.

I was Caitlin’s adult lover.

“Are you insane?” I asked, looking at Caitlin.

“What?” she asked.

“You told them?”

“Of course. We tell each other everything.” She shrugged, like everything was fine.

“Well what you told them could land me in the penitentiary for fifteen to twenty,” I said.

“Oh! We’d never tell anybody else!” squealed Emma.

“She’s right,” said Ashley. I remembered then that sweet Ashley had been fucking her brother since she was thirteen. I looked at her breasts for some reason.